Fantasy God to Out of the League — A Miscalculation of Confidence

Well shit hey, there goes another fantasy season and another $100 down the pooper. Only difference between this one and the usual bubble burst is that I was actually confident I was going to take it out this season.

My team was fucking awesome. However, in what is actually a disadvantage in fantasy, they were healthy all season. That is when fantasy karma will always decide to stick the knife in at the exact wrong moment.

After inadvertently drafting James Harden with my first pick – there was a cock up in the draft order, and after a lot of yelling in the chat (or at least it seemed like it would have been yelling if it were in real life), the last thing I remember seeing was “we’ll postpone to Tuesday”. I took the opportunity. “fucking hey, I’ll go help give the kids a bath and get them ready for bed”. When I returned to the computer, I had missed calls and messages coming out the wazoo, I had drafted James Harden (my joint least favourite player of the last 12 years — hey, Rudy), the entire first round had been and gone, and I was about 8 seconds away from being on the clock for my second round pick.

It was time to lock in. This was my MJ flu game.

First guy off the board – Chet Holmgren. Fantasy isn’t about the stars; it’s about the stats. I knew that it might be a bit of a reach, but if I can get rebounds/3PM/stocks/points and good shooting %s, that’s a fucking good anchor for the team. The only concern was health, but Chet played a lot of games this season, and delivered in all of those categories.

I grabbed Pascal Siakam in Round 3 with the knowledge that Hali was out for the season, Myles Turner had been traded, and Indy were going to bomb. That screams fantasy success; however, he was one of the “injuries”. Injury is a term I use lightly, because him being out didn’t exactly hurt Indy’s chance at a high pick. That one killed me at the death.

Rounds 4 and 5 were where I was Steph in the third quarter in Boston. It might as well have been me hitting the 35-footer and pointing to my ring finger. Jalen Johnson, right in to Deni Avdija. I wanted JJ from the get go. I watched Atlanta before he was injured the previous season and he seemed like he was ready to explode, and with the Trae Young era constantly seeming like it was at the finish line (good thing they traded Luka for him), it was a fever dream getting him, and boy oh boy did it pay off. A 30-point triple double a night? Yeah, go on then. Deni was absolutely the same. I watched him at Washington, and I couldn’t believe it when they sold low on him…actually, yes, I could because it’s Washington. A 24-7-7 average for a 5th-rounder. Fucking jackpot.

Moving forward was a touch rough…but you can’t win them all hey. I thought Jalen Suggs was worth a nudge, and he absolutely is…when he plays. Unfortunately, that’s not often.

Toumani Camara. Yeah, I cut bait with him pretty quickly.

Picked up Onyeka Okongwu in the 8th for rebounds and 3s, which, again, fucking hit.

DDV in the 9th. Whoops.

Herb Jones in the 10th. Whoops. But in my defense, he should have been better than he was.

In the 11th round I picked up the most unlikely triple double threat of the season in Nic Claxton. What a pick! Unfortunately, I then dropped him in about 2 weeks into the season, before he morphed into that player. Worse than that, Liam picked him up and enjoyed the fruits of that labour, and let me know about it. Fuck Liam.

Jaden Ivey was a swing that didn’t connect as my IR stash, but my last pick? Well, every fantasy manager has to pick a rookie I feel. You need to plant your flag in the future generation somewhere and let it be known who you’re riding with for the future years, and VJ Edgecombe was my guy. Everything that I watched of that kid coming in to the league, both playing and interviews, screamed that he couldn’t fail. And whaddya know? He was fucking awesome.

Through the season I even had some of the best wire pickups. I snatched Ryan Rollins early, I rode the Jaylon Tyson train until it came off the rails, I was hot on Ty Jerome when he returned. Hell, I even put a waiver claim in to make sure I secured Jabari Smith Jr after Liam dropped him. Fuck Liam.

Everything was going as well as it could, and no one stood a chance. My team was dominating; I was on top looking down.

Then confidence may have got the better of me.

There were only 2 guys that I had lost to, and I decided to start looking into how I was going to beat them, and them alone. My team was flying. I was Icarus, only I hadn’t reached the sun yet.

Rebounds, blocks and points were what I needed to firm up to compete with these 2.

Enter Liam. Fuck Liam.

I gave up James Harden, for Anthony Black and Anthony Davis. Yeah, shut the fuck up, I still stand by this trade. I’m aware AD was out, but at that time, in my head, all I needed was 2 weeks from him at the end of the season, and that could be enough to put my team over the top.

James Harden is a fantasy cheat code…to an extent. Bulk turnovers, and his FG% seemingly falling off a cliff as the season went on killed me in those categories. I had Jalen Suggs coming back from injury at the time of the trade, and I figured Suggs and Black could mostly cover Harden, and then AD was going to be my ultimate trump card come the pointy end.

It did not go well from there.

The chat post trade? Absolutely roasted me.

AD? Got traded to Washington about 2 weeks after this trade. About a week after landing in DC, they said he’d be sitting out the rest of the season. Heartbroken, but still confident despite the injury bug starting to creep through the rest of the team, I dropped AD.

But in a cruel turn of events, just to add some all-natural Himalayan pink salt seasoned with lemon into the open AD wound, the fucking Washington GM came out a few days later and said no, he was actually expecting AD to suit up again this season. I was snookered. I had to waste ANOTHER move on him to pick him back up, because if someone else grabbed him and he did play…fuck me that chat would light me up.

Post that trade, injuries shot me down, however I still finished 12 category wins on top; the only team over 100 category wins, and still confident and talking my shit going in to the playoffs.

All that, just to lose to Liam in Round 1.

Fuck. Liam.

And also, just to really dig the boots in, those two blokes I planned this whole thing around? Yeah, also gone in Round 1. Fuck me.

Another wasted season. Another Donald Bradman lighter, and here I find myself watching the playoffs from the sideline; throwing banter in to the chat about how my team would smoke the teams still competing for the big prize (they absolutely would not), and really just being pissy about the whole fucking thing.

And yet…fuck I can’t wait for next season. Might even pick up Harden for the fun of it.